Whiskey in a Downfall
by BelovedSlayer
Summary: After years of eternal torment, Angel returns a changed man. Buffy realizes she still loves him, but unexpected events may force her to confront his evil side again
1. Unraveling the Path

_**Author's Note: This was an idea I had written down that I wanted to post in time for the holidays. It takes place during and after the events of Amends albeit some of the storylines are manipulated quite a bit. Enjoy!**_

No matter where you drove to or where you walked within the Sunnydale city limits, you couldn't pass a single house without it decked in a whole array of Christmas decorations. Lights, inflatable snowmen, snow globes; you name it.

It was like the city had become a winter wonderland in the blink of an eye.

And in a way, it has.

It's been snowing continuously for two weeks straight and it kept on piling.

Ever since Angel and I had our fisticuffs on the hilltop that night.

The weather people over at Channel Five were still trying to figure out what was causing it.

Yet, there were still too many unanswered questions.

But Angel and I knew.

The problem now was, since that night, I haven't heard a peep from him.

He was not at the mansion. Not at the cemetery. Not at his old apartment. Not even at Willy's.

Though for the millionth time, it would be my next stop on the daunting, endless search for the man I had loved.

That I still loved.

I was making my way through a bustling downtown, kicking two feet of snow left and right as I trudged my way through the thickening crowd.

Oh, and did I mention that it was Friday night, the few days after Christmas?

Yeah, you heard right. There were shoppers galore, bags smacking against one another as they tried to make a clear path towards home.

There was a long trail of customers out of the Espresso Pump that ended at the entrance of Sun Cinema. Pretty soon, they'd be running out of mocha and steaming cups of hot chocolate.

It was nice, however, to see my two favorite places adorned in lights and wreaths. It added to the festive spirit of the season when my mood as of late was nothing short of gloom and doom.

That and it was a mere twenty degrees outside.

Not even the demons and vampires had wanted to come out and risk freezing their asses to death except those that were planning on getting loaded.

And it was perfectly fine by me. It gave me a somewhat respite from breaking my nails and coming home with blood on my hands.

Speaking of which, they were developing frostbite. Which meant I needed to get to Willy's as soon as I can.

I pushed my way through the burgeoning crowd, turning left onto the alley that led to the back door of the bar.

Here, there were no passerby's.

Just the pungent scent of garbage, decomposed food, and smoke filtering the air.

I was alone.

Up ahead, I caught the small sign signaling "Willy's Bar" and stood beneath it, turning to face the door.

I didn't bother to knock.

Alcohol, cigarettes, and a strange, unidentifiable odor welcomed me into its arms as it assaulted my nostrils.

Ick. I almost gagged.

A couple of demons caught sight of me and immediately escaped towards the front entrance. I searched the dingy surroundings, looking for the familiar bartender that I've come to go to for vital information.

We were almost pals in that way.

"Oh, hey, look, it's the _Slayer_. The _Slayer_ is here," Willy announced, silently alerting the numerous demons littering the bar that it was time to pack up and haul ass before trouble began to brew.

Half of the bar emptied itself out, with the exception of a blood orange demon with red irises muttering something that I barely detected as it was making its way out the door.

"You heard about Angelus? Vampire's not looking right these days."

A taller demon with spiral horns walking alongside him snorted with disdain.

"You call _that_ a vampire? Boozer's more like it. Doesn't seem to enjoy drinking blood anymore I hear," it huffed.

I glanced at them before shifting my attention to a nervous Willy with an arched eyebrow, demanding answers.

"Care to tell me what _that_ was about?"

He wipes his forehead with the back of his arm, dishtowel in hand, his eyes averting mine.

"Uh, I have no idea what he's talkin' about, Slayer. Honest. He had a few too many tonight. Doesn't know what he's sayin', you know?" he sputters.

"How about you tell me the truth? I need to know what's going on with Angel. And if you don't tell me, I will break every little bone in your bony little hand. Got me?"

"Okay, Slayer, okay! Just don't mention this to my patrons, alright? Business' been slow. I need the money to get through the holidays," Willy pleads.

I said only one word. "Talk."

"You're not gonna like what I gotta say."

"Talk." I kept my face passive.

He leans close, elbow resting on the polished oak tabletop.

"Word in the underground is that something big is goin' down, and it's still spookin' the demons. Something that might have to do with your Angel."

"Any idea what that is?"

Willy pauses; the nervousness in his expression replaced with unquestionable tension.

The look on his face made my stomach tighten in knots.

I wanted to retch.

Instead, I watch him wrack a hand through his hair. He pours a finger of bourbon into a shot glass before gulping it.

"Patrons here and there tell me The First has been lurking around somewhere. It didn't leave, not when you confronted it. It made you believe that it was gone. Something was keeping it here this entire time without anyone being made aware of it."

"Let me guess…Angel?"

Willy didn't respond; his mouth thins into a narrow line.

I kept my body steady.

"But why Angel? What does The First want from him?" I almost snap, breaking my resolve.

This was not good. This was _so not_ good.

Once again, I see Willy pause before answering. "I don't know for sure, but there's been rumors circulating recently. Bad ones. Don't know if there's an ounce of truth to it but I heard The First used Angel to break free from his, you know, eternal damnation."

I kept mum. Bile rises in my throat.

"I usually don't tell my customers this, but you being the Slayer and all, I'd be careful. Last I heard, The First is planning to use Angel to go after you. And it's gonna use him to exploit what makes you the most vulnerable."


	2. Love Doesn't Live Here

I couldn't make myself fall sleep for about a week after what Willy had told me.

I spent those nights either pacing in my room, scouting the streets for information, or on patrol giving an extra dose of a beatdown on the fledging vampires and demons.

Something else happened not long after I spoke with him, something that scares the hell out of me: dead bodies, mostly women, found scattered throughout Sunnydale at both day and night, completely drained of their blood.

There's been no leads, no clues found.

Except all of them were around my age, and blond.

And those bodies continue to pile up.

In the living room, my body goes numb, the color draining from my face as I sat near the edge of the sofa, the news reporting yet another body discovered earlier tonight, this time behind The Bronze.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying not to fall apart from another string of disturbing news.

This situation has gotten to the point that I've been standing frigid outside lately, arms crossed, stake hidden inside the sleeve of my jacket while waiting for my mom to come home from the gallery; to make sure she arrived here in one piece.

She didn't understand my suddenly erratic behavior.

It didn't matter because I couldn't explain it to her.

My attention switches back to the TV only to catch the last of the reporter's words, a petite Asian woman who was fighting to keep her face from appearing horrified.

" _Witnesses couldn't identify the possible person of interest, but they say a man appearing in his late 20's was seen loitering outside the local nightclub. Anyone will any information is encouraged to call Sunnydale Police."_

I picked up the remote from the coffee table and pressed the Power button, but not before a photo of the dead girl flashed across the screen. Blond, pretty, and young.

Someone who used to be in one of my classes.

The living room fell quietly as I closed my eyes, the image of her seeping in my head.

I couldn't breathe.

My lungs felt like they were being filled with lead.

Angel's been missing for almost a month.

And the dead girls? They started disappearing around the same time.

I so didn't want to think about it, but there had to be a direct link between the two.

Frantic thoughts race across my mind, ones that I prayed I would never have to think of ever again.

 _What if somehow, Angel lost his soul?_

 _What if he's out there killing again?_

 _What if I_ _have to_ kill him again?

The last question made my blood run cold.

If he's not losing himself to drinking, what if he's losing himself in blood again?

I feel my nails digging into my palms, trying to hold back my fear and worry.

I had to get to The Bronze. I had to find out what happened to that girl.

Before I could lift a finger, I caught sight of the headlights from my mom's jeep slithering through the closed blinds.

It was close to midnight. No way in hell would my mom let me out this late.

Especially since I'm supposed to be grounded, locked in my room doing homework.

Oops.

I reached for Angel's leather jacket (no one knew, not even Willow, that I still had it) and Mr. Pointy, tucking it inside the sleeve before wrapping my hand around the front door knob, the cold air slapping against my face.

My mom exits the driver's side of the jeep, her hand filled with grocery bags.

How do I tell her I needed to go out and investigate the murders?

Think Buffy think.

My mom's eyes locked into mine.

"Buffy, are you going somewhere? Did you forget that you were grounded?" Her voice is stern. Totally non-negotiable.

My heart stilled.

"Um, Mom, there's somewhere I have to be. Willow called. She needs my help for a school project that's due." I tried to keep a straight face. She knew about me being the Slayer, but I didn't want to tell her that Angel might be involved with the disappearances.

And The First alive and kicking? Forget about it.

"Buffy, the truth. Is this a Slayer duty?" my mom demanded.

I looked away for a minute, staring down at the dimness that was Revello Drive.

I said a silent prayer that all of what's happening wouldn't put my mom's safety in jeopardy.

"…Yeah. Yeah, it is."

My mom sighs, contemplating before answering.

"Just for tonight, I'll make an exception. But you are still grounded when you get back," she tells me, dropping the bags on the driveway before pulling me into a hug.

I return it, the floral scent of her shampoo wafting under my nose.

I shed a single tear, knowing that the worst was yet to come.

BABABABABA

I felt eyes watching my every move as soon as I left the house. When I reached the front entrance to The Bronze, the feeling still hung over me.

But every time I eyed my surroundings, there'd be no one there.

Only myself.

It's been a while since I last tasted fear, but with Angel lurking in the shadows, it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I was greeted by the yellow police tape that kept the door to the club off limits. Looking both ways, I tear at it, carefully pushing it before venturing inside. I feel the pulse of my heart ringing in my ears, my throat, my wrists, my adrenaline running on high.

The scent of bleach assaults my nostrils, and I come close to gagging away my dinner.

Thanks Crime Scene Unit. Thanks a lot for your hard work.

That was sarcasm by the way.

It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.

The sense of other eyes watching drilled holes into my back.

I reach for Mr. Pointy.

Someone was here.

And they were trying hard not to be seen.

"Don't think that I don't know you're here," I call out, keeping my voice from bordering

I keep Mr. Pointy close to my chest, ready for stake duty.

"Weren't you kicked out of your last school for burning down the gym?" a female voice says mockingly.

My eyes went everywhere; the ceiling, the stage, the second-floor balcony.

I saw nothing.

 _Déjà vu all over again_

Only this time, it wasn't Darla.

The barest flicker of moonlight overlooks the stage, and out comes a figure that died recently.

So fresh that her body hasn't yet set in rigor mortis.

My eyes narrowed.

"You're not supposed to be alive," I say, my body hardening, trying to keep my voice emotionless.

"No one really stays dead when they're living on the Hellmouth, apparently," my classmate retorts. "I guess you would know that, wouldn't you?"

Her body was pale and bare. She was petite, and her long blond hair shielded her womanly parts.

Needle point fangs grew from her mouth.

She licks her lips in anticipation, ready for the kill.

Horror and sadness swept over me, but I force them to the side.

"Too much yapping, not enough ass kicking," was my snappy comeback, and I launch my body against hers, knocking her to the ground.

With an unaware strength, her palms press against my chest, my back suddenly connecting against a round table.

I land with a loud grunt, but don't have enough time to recover before she's on me. I only notice now that Mr. Pointy wasn't in my hand anymore. Her fingers wrap against my throat, cutting off my breathing.

"What's it like to die again, Slayer? Feels good, doesn't it?"

I pull Mr. Pointy to me. She was reveling in her moment, not noticing.

I smile grimly. "Not as much as I'll enjoy this."

I plunge the stake through her heart.

She glances down at me, returning my smile with one of her own.

"By the way, Angel sends his love."

Her body turns to swiveling dust, coating me.

I'm left on the floor recovering, my heart twisting in a knot.

I'm on the verge of crying.

 _No, not again..._

 ** _Author's Note: It's been ages since I last updated and I'm sorry it's taken so long to update. The story is going on a bit of a different route than I originally intended to be and it might be longer because of it. We'll see. Thank you guys for the reviews. It helps a lot! I hope to have chapter 3 up soon._**


	3. This Black Heart of Mine

I didn't know how long I've laid on the hard floor, or how long I've been crying.

It had to be a couple of hours at most.

When my eyes fluttered open, I saw the edges of dawn creeping through the window overlooking the balcony.

 _Angel sends his love…_

I picked myself up from the floor, using my knees as leverage.

Teresa's vampiric face flashes in my mind, saying the words that I'd hoped would never hear of again.

 _Angel sends his love…._

I feel the bile rising in my throat. I try hard to hold it back.

 _Angel sends his love…._

I grab the nearest barstool I see, and threw it against the stage, fresh tears leaking down my face.

I couldn't get over the vampire I've just killed saying those exact same words.

They reverberated in my head, like an echo that wouldn't stop.

I feel my shoulders slump, as if the light in my soul was dying.

Tonight was, well, tonight was the worst I've felt in God knows how long.

I didn't wallow in it long; I drag my body to the entrance door.

I glare at the sun peeking through, thoughts of Angel burning behind my eyes, leaving their mark.

As they always have.

My body protests at me moving. I was hurting all over.

But I need to hurry.

I need to get home.

Because I have to make sure my mom is okay.

Something keeps me in place. Something is off. My hands start to shake, and a wave of exhaustion hits me full force.

The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was a tall shadow looming over me.

When I wake, it's early afternoon, and I'm under my own covers, in my own room.

Alone.

I stand up straight, wondering how I got there.

I rub sleep from my eyes and toss the comforters aside, my body still aching in various places.

I look down, noticing I'm still wearing the same clothes from last night and this morning.

Rising from my bed, I walk over to the vanity mirror, checking to see if anything is out of the ordinary.

Yep, there is.

The silver cross necklace I wore is no longer on my neck.

The very same necklace Angel had given me the night we first met.

I kept it because it was one of the only things that brought me comfort.

The other was his claddagh ring. The others didn't know that I went back to the mansion that night to get the ring back. My eyes widen at the realization. I open the top drawer on my dresser to find it too, had disappeared.

I feel the world slipping from under my feet and I sat on the edge of the bed, theories running through my head. I feel a sense of rising panic. Then, I hear a knock on my door.

"Buffy?" my mom called, concern in her voice.

"I'm here," I answer, my mind somewhere else.

I see her coming in, her eyes on mine. I try not to let her see that anything was wrong.

But the closer she got, the clearer I saw that something other than concern showed on her face.

"Mom, what is it?" I urge her.

I notice her hands folding in her lap. I brace myself. That only meant one thing…

"I thought we already had the talk about not seeing Angel," my mom begins sternly.

 _Wait, what? Where is this coming from?_ I wonder, confused.

"Mom, what are you talking about?"

For a few minutes, my room is quiet.

"Mom, what is it? There's something you're not telling me," I observe.

Almost without thinking, I reach for Mr. Gordo. Chills start to run through my body.

My Slayer instincts went on maximum overdrive.

I watch my Mom perch next to me, struggling to find the words to speak.

"Angel came to the house this _morning_. Carrying you. He said he found you near The Bronze, unconscious. He wasn't sure if you were hurt; if you needed medical attention, but he didn't see any wounds. He wanted to make sure you got home safe." My mom looks away, as if embarrassed to tell me this.

I hold on to Mr. Gordo. The words hit me like a ton of bricks. I feel my breath laboring.

 _This can't be. This just couldn't. But he took what he gave me. I know he did._

"Mom…did you, did you invite him in?" Worry squeezes at my heart. If Angel was able to come in my house uninvited, and in the daytime…

"That's just it. I didn't need to. As soon as I opened the door and saw the look of concern on his face, he marched his way in. He went up the stairs and left you on your bed. He told me to keep checking on you to make sure you were alright."

I rise to my feet and start to pace, touching my neck to make sure _he_ didn't leave any puncture wounds.

"Buffy, are you seeing him again?" my mom asks, startling me.

My lips press into a thin, firm line. I try to hide the hurt from my eyes, but my mom is too observant not to notice it. I never felt so conflicted.

I pause before throwing out an answer.

"…I was. Angel and I, we couldn't be what we were before. There was nothing physical, Mom."

"Do you still love him?"

I stop pacing and glance through my open windows, reliving the dead memories of us.

Our first kiss. Our first date. Our first night patrolling. The night we made love. The night that forever changed all of us.

"…I still do. But I don't know if he can ever come back from this."

I feel my heart clench when I said the words, screaming to rip through my chest. It hurts more than I ever realize.

And again, my room falls into a still quietness.

"Mom, you're not safe here. You have to leave town," I order.

"I am not going to leave you alone Buffy." She's on her heels, her stance way firm.

"There's no other choice. Angel has full access. As long as you're here, you're in danger. And I can't worry about you when I'm worrying about what he's going to do."

"He's behind those murders, isn't he?"

I wrack my hand through my messy hair, experiencing a turmoil of emotions.

How do I answer that?

I take my mom's hands in mine. "Mom, listen to me. Something's going on and I'm not sure exactly what is, but you _have_ to trust me. You have to get out of here."

"But…"

"I would love to go with you, but I'm the Slayer. This is what I do; what I have to do. Please Mom, I want you to leave tonight. I don't want to have to worry about you," I plead. She searches my eyes, taking a moment before finally nodding.

She holds me to her. I return the hug with equal intensity.

"Be careful, okay? I love you," I hear her murmuring against my hair.

I shut my eyes and once again, felt wetness.

Between the man I love and the parent I love the most, there was no supreme victory, no celebration. No matter what I want or do, the pain would again be the high price I'd, and so many others, will again have to pay.

" _Police say the bodies belonging to the missing girls each had what appears to be two by fours used as possible murder weapons and have yet to be ID'd. As of now, the person of interest has yet to be reached and the Sunnydale Police Department are continuing their investigation into possible connections between the murders. Anyone with any information can contact the anonymous tip line at this number."_

I hear the TV announce, the only companion in my home, and my heart turns cold.

I sit at the kitchen counter pondering the news, a warm mug at my lips. I'm trying not to break the mug in half.

On and off throughout the night, I felt him close by. Always out of reach.

As of now, I sense him near the kitchen door. When I look through it for the thousandth time, I see nothing.

Only darkness.

"I know you're there," I call out.

Somewhere in the distance, I pick up maniacal laughter. _His_.

And then…

"Hello lover," came the familiar voice from the living room. "Miss me?"

My heart drops to my stomach but I put on a stone-cold façade. I reach for Mr. Pointy, not turning to look at the thing that was once the man I loved.

"Conceited much?" is my snarky retort.

I reluctantly turn to face him. Adorning leather pants, the red velvet shirt, the long duster jacket. I muster every once of my strength to peer into his eyes.

Once, they were filled with a warmth and lightness that made me fall hopelessly in love.

When he used to be mine. Before all this.

But looking into them now, the lightness was no longer there. Instead, evil and hatred reside behind them. Not only my heart, but my body freezes.

What I see there is death. And destruction. It's déjà vu all over again.

"Come on, Buff. This is a once in a lifetime, well for you anyway, reunion. Aren't you happy to see me? Maybe we can…you know, relive your 17th birthday and make up for lost time?" Angelus sneered.

It was all it took for me to make the first move.

I direct all my anger, all my pain, all my hurt, all my love, all that I buried, into a swift kick, my bare foot slamming against his abdomen.

I did it not only for myself, but for the girls.

Because he took their lives without a care, like Ms. Calendar. And as the Chosen One, that was more than unforgivable.

Angelus lands hard against the living room floor, his back smacking against the carpet. I connect one move with another as I straddle him. My fist connects with his face, immediately breaking the cartilage of his nose. It drips instantly of blood, its red drops staining the beige carpet.

There goes my monthly allowance.

And it's funny, a vampire needs blood to live and yet, I'm seeing my once lover bleed when he should've been in a coffin buried six feet under months ago.

"I didn't know you like it so rough, Buff. What a turn on." I see the smirk on his angelic face. I try not to weaken my resolve seeing it. Exhaustion creeps up on me again, and Angelus takes advantage by grabbing my wrists and pushing me off him. I land on my back, my tailbone impacted, and this time, he's the one straddling me.

I don't remember the last time his body felt so much like ice. I cringe when his fingers try to caress my cheek, though not in a loving, affectionate gesture.

"Guess what, Buff? I got something for you," Angelus taunts. His breath reeks of fresh blood, and I try not to inhale it. "Get off me," I snarl, fighting to break free. He holds me in place, grinning.

That smile that use to make my day when things were tough. Not anymore.

"Tsk, tsk. Not until I give you my present. Well, technically, it's _yours._ Remember this?" He dangles the silver cross necklace. Attached to the delicate chain was my claddagh ring. Both were tarnished and warped, and the sight of them forced angry tears to my eyes.

His gifts to me were meaningless to him. As if they were nothing anymore. We've been down this road before, but it didn't make it easier to endure.

I say nothing but glare at him.

"Did you think I wouldn't know that you kept these around, even when Soul Boy didn't?" He stands to his feet, hovering over me, his face inches from mine.

That facial expression, I've seen it once before.

"I had no idea you were still a sucker for him even after all the things he put you through. It's so cute. You'd think you'd know better," he mocked. My eyes lock to his right palm. With another sneer, and with a strength I've never seen before, he dismantles the cross necklace and claddagh ring as if they were sand pebbles caught between his fingers.

The liquid silver spills from his clenched hand.

"Well Buff, I hate to cut this short, but I got someplace I have to be. Time flies, you know? Oh, by the way, those girls I killed? My present to you. I hope you like it. And don't you think there won't be more on the way." He flashes a sinister smile that gave my blood chills.

I feel his fingers running through my hair as he forces my face even closer to his.

"Let's see if you got the guts to truly kill me this time," I hear him whisper against my ear before he plants his lips against mine, the kiss inhuman and dispassionate.

My head drops against the floor and before I could blink, Angelus was gone.

 ** _Author's Note: Though the story takes place during the events of Amends, it's safe to say it's not going to follow most of the canon events that took place. From now on, I guess you can say, all bets are off._**


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